The stadium goes dark
and a hush falls-
you can hear a pin drop;
The sounds of pins dropping,
Maybe it’s the patter of raindrops
Or is it running feet-
Oh, the anticipation!
It’s a drumroll for the artist,
As The Drummer beats –
As The Drummer beats the welcome,
All eyes are glued with undeterminable focus,
at the silhouette of black
against the yellow and blue rays illuminating behind;
As The Drummer unobtrusively – brings the heart rate down.
As The Drummer unobtrusively brings the heart rate down,
She begins the tempo and sets the tone,
The evening commences and concludes –
The artist attains complete glory,
As The Drummer beats in rhythm.
As The Drummer beats in rhythm,
Hands are clapping and the feet are tapping,
Some bodies sway to and fro;
Is it the artist or the audience that brings the eve to life, or is it
The Drummer, who is now lost in the rhythm of the song?
The Drummer who is now lost in the rhythm of the song,
The focus is inward as the fingers fly
As the dust rises from the beaten surface,
Dust and light creating a dance that
Enraptures every heart,
As The Drummer beats about the rhythm of life.
As The Drummer beats about the rhythm of life,
The pat on a baby’s back, the peals of joy or the cries of pain,
The beat is now picking up the pace,
It’s terror or fear, joy and ecstasy,
As The Drummer brings it to a crescendo.
As The Drummer brings it to a crescendo,
Her eyes still closed and people watch without blinking,
Her heart beats in tune with all-
A universal song, a universal rhythm.
The Drummer then brings it to a sudden stillness.
The Drummer brings it to a sudden stillness,
You can hear her breath rise and fall,
Her hands now rest on her side,
One bigger than the other- no one noticed-
The imperfection that perfected the evening!